At Manhattan
It was an historical spot at which the Democratic National Convention assembled. In the middle of Manhattan's Madison Square Garden, in the pit where the delegates sat, only a few days before ardent swimmers had been splashing. The roof, that had often resounded with cheering of prizefight fans and from which circus acrobats had dangled in airy peril, was decked with the colors of the nation. The Convention restaurant, every year, had exhibited the freaks of the circus. The theatre in the building, which ordinarily was the seat of indescribable plays set forth in indescribable Yiddish, had been converted into a "Convention Club," as advertising by a large department store.
Into the great circus hall at midday-- sweltering June midday -- poured the delegates. They sweltered and chattered and shouted while the band made merry. The performers began to come; George E. Brennan, boss of Illinois; Thomas Taggart, boss of Indiana; a host of McAdoo leaders -- Love of Texas, Long of Missouri, Herring of Iowa; Senator Copeland of New York, came in and went around shaking hands with every delegation.
Promptly 45 minutes late, Cordell Hull, Chairman of the National Committee, called the meeting to order and introduced His Eminence Patrick Cardinal Hayes, who publicly ejaculated:
"O Almighty and Loving Father, in whom we live, move and have our being. . . ."
The band struck up The Star Spangled Banner. Small flags rained down from the ceiling. Anna Case, famed singer, repeated the words of the anthem. Then everybody twisted his head around and looked backward while the official photograph was taken.
The call of the Convention was read. Mr. Hull announced the temporary officers--Senator Pat Harrison, Chairman, etc.
Former Senator Hitchcock of Nebraska, Miss Ruutz-Rees (Headmistress of an exclusive Seminary-for-young-ladies in Connecticut) and Newton D. Baker led the Mississippian to the Chair amid cheers.
Keynote. "Chairman Hull, ladies and gentlemen. Forty-eight years ago, in the City of St. Louis, the hosts of Democracy met in convention to dedicate themselves to purging corruption from the public service. We meet today for a rededication to the same service. There was corruption then, there is a saturnalia of corruption now. There were disgraced public officials then, repudiated by their party and under arrest; but today Fall goes unmolested on his ranch in New Mexico, Daugherty sat with Presidential approval in the Convention at Cleveland, and Daugherty's attorney was Chairman of the committee created to oil the steam roller of the worst boss-ridden convention of a generation. . . .
"At the outset let it be understood that this Convention, composed of the militant representatives of the Democracy of the nation, is no cold-storage affair. It is going to be red-hot, highly seasoned, and well prepared. . . .
"The Democratic Party is the friend of business, big and small. . . .
"In the guarded orchards of this Administration the golden apples of special privilege have been gathered by the favored few. . . .
"The American people will know that they are dealing with a system; that even though Hanna, Quay and Penrose are dead, their spirits go marching on in the personages of the Three Musketeers of present-day Republicanism-- Butler, Stearns and Slemp. These bosses are 'doing business in the same old way, according to the same old rule. . . .
"Henry Cabot Lodge, who made Coolidge at Chicago, and unmade him at Washington, 'with rolling eyes spews fine speech about duty and like phantasmal attempts of his flighty mind,' attempts to weave new webs of intrigue and to again ensnare and mislead the American people. . . .
"The lamented Harding, in his bighearted, sympathetic way, sounded the tocsin call in his New York speech to enter the World Court. That was only a step, but a step in the right direction. . . .
"Would that we might once more see in that exalted position one with the courage of a Jackson, the militant honesty of a Cleveland, the matchless statesmanship, far-flung vision and the fine fighting qualities of a Woodrow Wilson. . . .
"Oil has become the open sesame of power. It gained admittance to the robbers' cave and participation in the plunder. It has been the inspiration of this Administration's foreign, as well as domestic policy. The magic significance of its flow has awakened the State Department to an interest not only in Mexico and the United States of Colombia, but away off in the Near East. Truly the Administration might have boasted of two 'Secretaries of Oil.' . .
"Show this Administration an oil well and it will show you a foreign policy. . . .
"It would seem now we can hear the soft voice of sweet reasonableness coming to us from Monticello, the voice of 'Old Hickory,' coming across the Blue Ridge from the Hermitage, and from that historic crypt at St. Albans we hear the mighty voice of Woodrow Wilson, wistfully calling to us: 'To you, from failing hands, we throw the torch. Hold it high! Hold it high! Carry on, carry on; keep the faith, keep the faith.'"
As Mr. Harrison finished, Cordell Hull, Chairman of the National Committee, fainted (for the third time in two days) and was carried from the platform. Overwork and too much heat.
A "Great Mayor." After the cheers and applause for the keynoter, Senator Harrison had the pleasure of introducing "a great Mayor of a great City in a great State."
Mayor John F. Hylan of New York City came forward and carefully read a long typewritten address, as the perspiring audience gradually left the hall.
Before adjournment, the usual Committees were named.
Next morning the Convention opened promptly 40 minutes late. Bishop Gailor of Tennessee prayed: "O, most gracious God, who hast shown us wonderful things in Thy righteousness. . . ."
Reports. Mrs. Leroy Springs of South Carolina presented the report of the Committee on Credentials. The Committee had had only one contest to decide, and solved that by unseating an alternate from Oregon.
The Chairman of the Committee on Permanent Organization then announced Senator Thomas J. Walsh of Montana as Permanent Chairman of the Convention. As a Committee escorted Senator Walsh to the Chair, Senator Harrison proclaimed "a real Democrat and the greatest investigator in the history of this country."
A demonstration followed. When Senator Walsh had secured order, he delivered a speech, not so eloquent as Senator Harrison's, but of the same significance, concluding: "The honor of our country, the prosperity of our people, demand that we return to the ideals of Woodrow Wilson, that we resume the place he won for us--the moral leadership of the world."
The Committee on Rules made its report, which included the two-thirds requirement for nomination. After much talk about abolishing this rule in favor of a simple majority nomination, the old rule was retained without a fight.
With a cheer, the Convention passed a resolution which read: . . .
"RESOLVED, That the magnificent address of the Temporary Chairman is hereby commended as a Democratic chart during the coming Democratic National Campaign. . . .
"RESOLVED, That 'Our Pat' is no longer a Mississippian slogan but a national Democratic slogan, and let us all claim it."
Nominating Speeches. "The next order of business," declared Mr. Walsh, "is the presentation of candidates for President of the United States. The Secretary will call the roll of States."
"Alabama," intoned the clerk.
Alabama responded. Mr. Forney Johnston, slender, intellectual, appeared on the platform. Said he:
"My State does not lightly put in nomination a candidate for President. For decade after decade, Alabama has yielded her first place in the roll of States to permit the nomination of some great son by a sister commonwealth.
"Upon this occasion we cannot yield."
The Convention, however, was not particularly responsive to Mr. Johnston's remarks until he reached the subject of the Ku Klux Klan. The Convention pricked up its ears as he declared: "The question before this party is whether secret organizations shall be given powers not subject to the Bill of Rights and superior to the elected representatives of the people."
But when he finally mentioned the Klan by name, half of the Convention rose with a shout. Alabama marched down the aisle, New York fell in behind. Eighteen states, McAdoo states, sat tight, while the marchers shouted: "Get up, you Kleagles!" A fight resulted from an attempt to snatch the Missouri and Colorado standards into the parade. When the uproar subsided, Mr. Johnston named Senator Underwood.
The enthusiasm of the audience was only moderate, yet Senator Walsh knocked off the head of his gavel, pounding for order.
"Arkansas," screamed the clerk.
Ex-Governor Charles H. Brough came forward on behalf of "Arkansas, the gateway of the great progressive Southwest," saying: "A youth of adversity . . . a man of virtue and honesty . . . for the immortal principles of Democracy . . . Senator Joseph T. Robinson."
There was a legal sufficiency of applause and the band played on while some one went in search of ex-Senator James D. Phelan, who was to nominate Mr. McAdoo for California.
Ex-Senator Phelan did not hold his audience. He went through every word of his lengthy prepared address, but the delegates were not interested and busied themselves with other subjects. Time and again the enraged Senator Walsh rapped with his gavel, demanded order, directed the Sergeants-at-arms to clear the aisles. At length the onetime Senator named his man.
Apathy suddenly gave way to excitement. Delegates and non-delegates, men and women masquerading as cowboys set up a hullabaloo and began to march. At the head of the column on the shoulders of two men was Miss Josephine Dorman, plump San Franciscan in red, white and blue. She sang, shouted, hurrahed for her candidate. She did it till she was red in the face, almost hysterical. Other women joined in the frenzy. Cornetists aggravated it. Cheerleaders inspired it. Songs bolstered it. Those who took part were the group opposite to that which had paraded against the Ku Klux. Klan. The Herculean effort wore itself out at the end of 55 minutes and the Convention called it a day.
Third Day. The next morning's proceedings were begun by Miss May Kennedy of New York, Vice Chairman of the Convention, who said: "Mine is a unique privilege."
The Secretary resumed his roll call: "Colorado!"
Governor Sweet of that state seconded the nomination of Mr. McAdoo --with interruptions by Smith followers.
"Connecticut," called the Secretary.
"Connecticut yields to the great Empire State of New York!"
The Smithmen yowled and redoubled their yowling as Franklin D. Roosevelt, from the wheel-chair in which he had been brought in, advanced to the Speaker's desk on crutches. His infirmity, which has troubled him for some three years, did not seem to have impaired his healthy vigor. Four years ago, when Mr. Roosevelt was a candidate for the Vice Presidency, Governor Smith had seconded his nomination. Mr. Roosevelt's speech nominating Governor Smith was a great contrast to ex-Senator Phelan's speech for McAdoo. It held the audience; it aroused incipient demonstrations in its course; it was extremely able.
When Mr. Roosevelt had finished, the Smith organization set out to stage an even greater demonstration than McAdoo's. They kept it up, with noise-machines, music, howls. There were fewer delegates in the demonstration and more outside talent than in Mr. McAdoo's. The demonstration was magnificently stage-managed; William Allen White said: "Belasco at his best could not have done better." It lasted 73 minutes and broke out again for 10 minutes after an interruption.
The roll call continued.
For Delaware, Senator Thomas F. Bayard nominated Willard Saulsbury, a former Senator. Moderate applause.
Florida yielded to Missouri, and Charles M. Hay seconded the nomination of McAdoo in an able speech. Enthusiasm was becoming exhausted; there was moderate applause.
Georgia and Idaho had no candidates. Illinois placed in nomination David F. Houston, former Secretary of Agriculture, also of the Treasury. But Illinois had not finished. Another delegate seconded the nomination of Smith. A third seconded the nomination of McAdoo.
Indiana nominated Senator Samuel M. Ralston--in 239 words. Indiana rose, cheering and singing. Anna Case sang On the Banks of the Wabash.
A blind delegate from Iowa seconded Governor Smith.
Kansas nominated her Governor, Jonathan M. Davis. The Kansas delegation demonstrated with sunflowers.
Kentucky yielded to Oregon, and a woman delegate seconded the McAdoo nomination.
Maine seconded the nomination of Underwood.
Maryland nominated Governor Albert C. Ritchie. The speech was well received. Maryland paraded, carrying the flag of Lord Baltimore. Michigan, New Jersey, Delaware, Minnesota joined.
Massachusetts seconded Governor Smith as the man "who never equivocates." The Smith howlers, mostly non-delegates, set to work again, ceasing only when Senator Walsh threatened to move the Convention elsewhere.
Michigan nominated Senator Woodbridge N. Ferris to mild applause.
By this time it was late in another afternoon. The McAdoo men wanted an evening session to get the nominating business out of the way in hope that a few ballots might be taken before the platform, and hence the Ku Klux Klan issue, came before the delegates. The Anti-McAdooites wanted to adjourn for the day. Senator Walsh called twice for "Ayes" and "Noes" but could not decide. A roll call was taken and adjournment was made until the next morning by vote of 559 to 513. This was the first defeat of the McAdoo leaders; but conspiring against them were a prize fight and other diversions which the delegates looked forward to that evening.
The roll call proceeds. Next morning the Convention opened promptly an hour and 10 minutes late. The roll call proceeded.
Minnesota seconded Smith's nomination.
Mississippi yielded to Ohio, and Newton D. Baker came forward to nominate, or rather to renominate, James M. Cox. He spoke mostly about Wilson and the League of Nations, and carried the audience with him in his demand for a return to "Wilson principles." When he had done, Ohio stood on its chairs and demonstrated, with the aid of Glee Clubs, for a quarter of an hour.
Montana sent up Mayor Maloney, of Butte, to second Smith. He was too hoarse to speak and Chairman Walsh was obliged to announce what Mr. Maloney would have, if he could have been understood. Then Sam V. Stewart of the same State seconded McAdoo on behalf of "seven-eighths of the delegation."
Nebraska read a speech nominating its Governor, Charles W. Bryan, "brother of famous Bryan." William J. was given good mention, but the speech was not inspiring. Afterwards Nebraska, followed by Georgia, Oregon, Montana, paraded.
Nevada was silent.
New Hampshire nominated for the first time in 72 years. It named Governor Fred H. Brown, once a National League baseball player. The home delegation paraded.
New Jersey sent up John E. Matthews to nominate Governor Silzer. New Jersey started a jaded parade, followed by New York, Illinois, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin. A pretty girl on the platform turned round and round, holding aloft the Governor's picture; another waved a flag; a glee club yowled intermittently. It was hard work, but lasted almost half an hour. Another New Jerseyan seconded Mr. Silzer.
New Mexico and North Carolina answered not.
North Dakota sent up a Catholic who denounced the Klan. There was a spontaneous roar, mostly from the galleries. The anti-Klan delegates rose in demonstration. Texas, Georgia and other delegations, pro-McAdoo and pro-Klan, kept their seats--as was to be expected since there were a good number of Klansmen among them. Then he went on to second McAdoo. At this, those who had been cheering sat down abruptly, and those who had been seated arose shouting.
Oklahoma held her peace.
Pennsylvania sent up a bevy of speakers who seconded in turn Smith, Underwood, Ritchie, McAdoo. A fifth speaker was about to second someone else when he was howled off.
Rhode Island passed by her great opportunity.
South Carolina sent up Mrs. Leroy Springs, most elegantly gowned, to second McAdoo in a poetical oration.
South Dakota modestly declined.
Tennessee seconded McAdoo.
Texas passed.
Utah seconded McAdoo.
Vermont yielded to New Hampshire, which sent up a minister from Massachusetts to second Governor Brown.
Virginia sent up her senior Senator, Claude A. Swanson, to nominate her junior Senator, Carter Glass, former Secretary of the Treasury. For 20 minutes, Virginia and New York maintained a languid march. Then Governor Trinkle seconded Mr. Glass with the declaration: "No man can point the finger of scorn at him except with pride." A woman in her 60's, Mrs. Kate W. Barrett, seconded Mr. Glass again, in an able speech which provoked real applause.
Washington sent up a woman who, in a single sentence, seconded McAdoo.
West Virginia nominated John W. Davis. The crowd was terribly weary, it stood and made a decent amount of noise for five minutes. Then Izetta Jewell Brown, who seconded Mr. Davis in 1920, seconded him again; moreover, she told the very same story as on the previous occasion, about God taking out man's brains and making woman (TIME, June 2). The story had been good before. It was good for a second time and for applause.
Wisconsin seconded Smith. The same group as the day before brought their standards over beside New York's. The howling of the Smith rooters recommenced. Some sirens were set going. Mr. Walsh threatened to have them ejected. The Smith managers shut it off in eight minutes.
"Wyoming," called the Secretary.
No answer.
"Alaska, District of Columbia," he went on, "Hawaii, Philippine Islands, Porto Rico, Canal Zone." After each name the delegates sighed with relief. After two and a half days the roll call was over. Sixteen candidates had had themselves nominated. McAdoo had been seconded eleven times, Smith seven times, Underwood and Glass twice each, Silzer, Ritchie. John W. Davis and Brown once each. Two and half days had been worn away in oratory and Fahrenheit heat, interspersed with soul-exhausting demonstrations of as much enthusiasm as was thought to be politically effective. Yet an end had been achieved--not the nomination, for a man may be balloted for, who has not been nominated--but a proper psychological state had been created. The delegates had been worn down. Their nerves were no longer in a state to render stubborn resistance to opposing vote getters. A clever politician might now carry them off in the intoxication of fatigue.
Platform. Next morning, promptly an hour and five minutes late, Senator Walsh called the Convention to order. After a few routine matters had been disposed of, Homer S. Cummings of Connecticut, Chairman of the Committee on Resolutions, was introduced. He looked unutterably worn and tired. His voice when he spoke was hoarse from overwork. He stated that in five days he had had only six hours' sleep, that the Committee had been in session until 6:00 a.m. that morning, that it had been in session until 6:30 the morning previous. (Joseph Tumulty leaned over and said to Will Rogers: "Homer is telling us a bedtime story.") But there were two planks on which the Committee could not agree: the League of Nations plank and one other "dealing with the question of religious freedom." This last they were afraid to report for fear of seriously splitting the Convention. In brief, the Committee wanted until three in the afternoon for further consideration. He closed: "And, my friends, let me add this--and I say this with all solemnity--in all my experience in service to the Democratic Party, in all the years that I have known political affairs and political events, I have never witnessed such a scene as took place this morning in the Committee-room at 6 o'clock. When we had completed our deliberations and had begun to feel once more welling up into our hearts the Spirit of fraternity and were about to disperse, one of the members arose and recited the Lord's Prayer.
"And we all united in it and at the close Mr. Bryan lifted up his voice [great applause]--Mr. Bryan lifted up his voice in an invocation for guidance and for divine help in this hour of stress. I do not know that I ought to say these things, but they did occur and so I have come to report to you exactly what happened in that Committee."
Congressman Upshaw remarked to Will Rogers (according to Will) as the audience dispersed: "Why did they wait till this late in the Convention to pray?"
The afternoon session opened promptly one hour and twelve minutes late. Mr. Cummings was again introduced and read the platform or rather he began to read it, was relieved by Senator Key Pittman of Nevada, who in turn was relieved by a reading clerk.
Next, Newton D. Baker rose and offered an amendment to the League of Nations plank, which proposed immediate entry into the League without a referendum, as proposed in the majority report.
W. R. Pattangall of Maine proposed an amendment to the Ku Klux Klan plank, specifically naming and denouncing the Klan. At the reading of this plank, the Convention began to get excited. The Anti-Klan group cheered loudly. A parade almost started, but Chairman Walsh discouraged it by rapping vigorously for order.
Delegate Alfred Lucking of Michigan, a lawyer of Henry Ford, came forward to argue for the majority League plank, saying: "If we provide for this referendum and lift the question out of politics, we will get 80% of the vote." Senator Jones of New Mexico spoke in the same tenor as the hall gradually emptied. The Senator's time ran out and he was stopped, the crowd applauding.
Once more Mr. Baker took the floor to speak for the ideals of Wilson. He had enthusiasm and force, and with real oratory swayed the Convention: "There is no subject on this earth, apart from my relations to my God and my duty to my family, which compares even remotely (with me) with the League of Nations."
He excoriated the proposal for a referendum on the League as unconstitutional, ineffective and cowardly:
Let me run a Republican newspaper for you for about five minutes. Tomorrow morning, should you adopt that, there will be the headline in the principal Republican paper, two inches high, clear across the page: THE DEMOCRATIC CONVENTION REPUDIATES WOODROW WILSON. I cannot claim that I loved Woodrow Wilson any better than you, because I know that I look into the faces of men and women who loved him totally; but I knew him better because of the closeness of my association with him, and I can imagine him looking over my shoulder here and reading that proposal, and you can imagine the fine contempt upon his face when he is asked to give his consent to this proposition, because this is what it amounts to: The Democratic Party says to the people of the United States, "We can no longer be trusted. We are going to bless this proposal, we are going to lift it out of the contamination of political contact with us; we are going to turn it loose; we are not going to be for it, except academically and theoretically; but as a militant party we are not going to fight for it."
My plank is to go into the League the way the Constitution says we are to go. Their plank is one more Mount Everest to climb. Why do men go to Asia to find mountains?
After him spoke Rabbi Stephen S. Wise, also for his proposal, and Senator Pittman against it. Mr. Pittman was subject to howls and hisses at times. From the point of applause and audience support, Mr. Baker had scored a great victory. When his time had run out the audience had insisted that he finish. The whole Convention stood and cheered at the end.
Idealism and emotion are outspoken, whereas expediency goes silently on its work. Five minutes was allowed to State Chairmen to poll their delegations. The roll call was taken. Mr. Baker's proposal went down before the majority report, 353 1/2 to 742 1/2.
It was nine in the evening, dinner having been forgotten. Debate turned to the Ku Klux Klan plank, and raged for two hours with many speakers on each side. Senator Owen of Oklahoma began it and William J. Bryan ended it, both speaking against denouncing the Klan by name. In between spoke Bainbridge Colby and Senator David I. Walsh of Massachusetts, for specific denunciation. Finally the delegations were polled and a roll call taken. The reported votes of many States were challenged and had to be polled by the Secretary. It took over two hours to get the final result. The vote was 542.15 to 541.15 against naming the Klan. One vote margin--the presence of one or two of the 4.7 delegates missing--might have meant a different Democratic platform.
So the platform was adopted.
Balloting. Cheerfully resuming their main business, and with complete equanimity, the delegates turned to voting for a Presidential candidate. The ballots rolled off with even monotony. McAdoo got away at the start, with 431 votes, probably holding some of his strength in reserve to make a good impression later. Smith was second with 241. Others trailed well behind. Stages of the contest:
Ballots: 1st 10th 20th 30th
McAdoo 431.5 471.6 432 415.5
Smith 241 299.5 307.5 323.5
Underwood 42.5 43.9 45.5 39.5
Davis, J. W. 31 57.5 122 126.5
Ralston 30 30.5 30 33
Glass 25 25 25 24
Ritchie 22.5 17.5 17.5 17.5
Robinson 21 20 21 23
At the end of the sixth ballot there was announced from the platform: "Former Secretary Fall, Harry F. Sinclair, E. L. Doheny and E. L. Doheny, Jr., have been indicted, due to the excellent efforts of your Permanent Chairman."
A little later in the balloting, perhaps, that announcement might have caused a landslide. But the balloting went on. The end was not yet.